Getting Lucky
by coffeebuddha
Summary: Kevin has a four leaf clover and he knows how to use it.


"The thing is," Kevin slurs up at Javier from where he's kneeling on the floor between his legs. "The thing. You know what the thing is?" Kevin pauses, his head tilted to the side and his eyes unfocused, and absently smacks the flat of his hand against Javier's knee while he grasps for whatever the thing is.

"No, what," Javier asks, nudging Kevin's half empty beer bottle a few inches further away with the side of his foot. Kevin glances down and watches him do it with a small frown and Javier runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head back up.

Kevin frowns and asks, "What what?"

"What thing," Javier prompts, trying not to notice the way Kevin's wetting his lips. He almost manages it, but he's had more than his fair share of alcohol tonight too and he's feeling loose and almost reckless as it spreads warmly through his system.

"The _thing__,_" Kevin says adamantly, jabbing Javier's thigh once with his finger. "The thing is _tradition_."

"Tradition," says Javier flatly. Kevin nods and smiles at him, the corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth. His fingers are slowly stroking the top of Javier's leg now, fingernails scratching lightly over worn denim, but he doesn't seem to notice what he's doing. Javier swallows thickly and tries to ignore the warmth that's slowly uncurling low in his belly. "What tradition are we talking about, bro?"

"The tradition of luck!" He pokes Javier's stomach this time, but instead of pulling away, he lingers, his fingers splayed wide over his abs. Kevin licks his lips again, a quick dart of tongue that makes Javier squirm, and there's a mischievous gleam in his impossibly blue eyes. "Four leaf clovers, man. They're, they're _lucky_ and I _have one_!"

Javier scoots back a little more on the couch, trying to get some distance, and Kevin tries to arch an eyebrow at him, doesn't quite manage it, raises both instead, and shuffles forward on his knees until Javier's spreading his legs almost obscenely wide to keep from doing more than just brush his sides. Of course, Kevin manages to blow that to hell by twisting and draping himself over Javier's outstretched leg, his stomach white hot heat that makes Javier shudder, so that he can make a grab for what's left of his beer. Then he's back, one hand settling back on Javier's knee like there's a magnet pulling it there.

The room goes blurry for a minute when Kevin rests the top of his bottle against his lower lip and slowly licks around the rim. His eyelids fall to half mast as he sucks the mouth between his lips and tilts his head back to drink. A drop of beer escapes the corner of his mouth and runs down his chin, drawing a wet line down his throat while his Adam's apple slowly, steadily bobs as he swallows. Before Javier can stop himself, he reaches out and catches the bead of liquid with the pad of his thumb, tracing the path back up Kevin's neck, up further, only stopping at the swell of his mouth. Kevin lets his chin drop, pulling off the bottle with an obscene sounding pop. His eyes are mesmerizing, so deep Javier could drown in them, and intense on his face as he opens his mouth a little wider and curls his tongue around Javier's thumb.

Electric heat shoots up his arm and down to his cock and Javier might possibly be panting a tiny bit when he breathlessly asks, "You have a four leaf clover? Is it with your pot of gold?"

Kevin's eyes crinkle again and he nods a little, but instead of actually answering he sucks on Javier's thumb, his teeth grazing the knuckle, and leans into the fingers Javier hadn't realized he'd curled over his jaw. Javier's mouth is dry and he snags Kevin's beer, finishing off what little's left of it in a single gulp that makes Kevin give one last hard suck and release him just enough to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

"I can show you," he says lowly, his hands running up Javier's legs, then sliding off to brace against the couch cushions on either side of him as he edges up onto Javier's lap.

Javier's hands settle automatically on Kevin's hips as he straddles him and he thinks it's very much to his credit that he only chokes a little bit when Kevin leans back and strips off his gaudy 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish!' shirt with one smooth motion. While he's still trying to recover from that, Kevin takes one of his hands in his and guides it to his hip, pressing his palm against the sharp jut of his hipbone. Javier tries to swallow around the moan stuck in his throat, but it slips out as a strangled groan instead. Kevin grins, his white teeth almost predatory, and something simultaneously tightens and loosens in Javier's chest as he lets his eyes drift over miles of warm, pale skin, memorizing the bump of his nipples, the dip of his navel, the flat lines of his stomach. He moves his hand, stroking it up over Kevin's ribcage, then pauses, an eyebrow shooting up.

"You have a tattoo of a four leaf clover." He traces around the edge of the small design and gives Kevin a disbelieving look.

"Yeah," Kevin says, stretching the word out as he pushes into Javier's touch. He shifts on his lap, his ass grinding down teasingly, and Javier's grip tightens, bruises probably blooming under his fingertips. "You wanna know why?"

He groans and wraps his arms around Kevin's waist, lifting him as he pushes up and twists so that Kevin falls back onto the couch with Javier cradled between his legs. Javier wriggles down, one knee on the floor for support, until he only needs to lean in to lick the tattoo. Kevin grabs his shoulders, his blunt nails pricking dully through the fabric of his shirt, and chokes out Javier's name, and Javier thrusts against the couch and laves over the tattoo again, then bites and sucks a less permanent mark just next to it.

"Sure," he says, his voice rough and desperate. His hands won't stay still, trying to map as much of Kevin's body as the other man will let him before he comes back to his senses and makes him stop. Kevin fists handfuls of his shirt and tugs him up, and Javier's only a little reluctant to let him. He settles down on top of Kevin, their hips fitted together, and slowly thrusts, that friction alone better than the last sex he had, even through all the layers of cloth. Kevin's moaning again, short little gasps that make Javier _want__. _Kevin's eyes are narrow slits of blue, his full lips open and wet, the bottom one swollen from his biting on it, and Javier nips at his earlobe and says, "Tell me, cariño."

Kevin shudders, his knees holding Javier tight and his hands scrambling at the back of his shirt as Javier slowly, tortuously rocks down against him. His eyes and hair are wild, twin spots of color high on his cheeks, a warm flush on his neck and chest, and Javier looks at him, at the way he's falling apart under him, and thinks _mine_. He kisses him then, licking into Kevin's mouth, too desperate to do much more than just pant against his lips. But Kevin's got one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his ass, pulling him down harder as he tenses and cries out.

"Joder," Javier growls against Kevin's lips, and then Kevin's loose limbed underneath him again, lazily sucking on his lower lip and snaking a hand down between them, undoing Javier's pants and shoving clothing aside with an ease that Javier fully plans to ask about. At another time. Like when Kevin's hand isn't curling hot around his cock, slick with sweat and precome.

"Come on, baby," Kevin grunts, kissing Javier's chin, jaw, neck. His hand is rougher and broader than Javier's used to associating with hand jobs, more like his own, stronger than any of the girls he's ever been with, but it's so good and so tight, and he thrusts into the circle of his fist, too far gone to even try to match the rhythm Kevin's setting. Not that Kevin seems to mind with the way he rasps, "You're so fucking close, baby. Look so good, wanna see how good you look when you come. Come on, come for me."

Javier kisses him, half to shut him up and half to keep the words he can feel bubbling up in his own throat from coming out. Words like '_mina_' and _'want you_' and '_need you_' and '_te quiero_'. And Javier's not sure where that last one came from or how long it's been floating around in his head, but he'll be damned if lets it slip. Not here, not like this. So he kisses Kevin, hard and sloppy and needy, as he thumbs Javier's slit, pushing him over the edge and into his orgasm.

When he comes back to himself, Kevin's pressing messy, open mouthed kisses to his forehead and stroking his hand up and down his back. Javier relaxes and lets himself curl into him for a minute before pausing.

"You're wiping your hand off on my shirt right now, aren't you," Javier grunts. Kevin doesn't say anything, but Javier as good as gets his answer when his hand freezes, then pats him a little awkwardly. "Thought so."

Kevin laughs and Javier can feel the vibrations of it, which is kind of nice, and he shifts them around so that they're on their sides. They're both complete messes, but he's feeling too sated to care much about that right now. Besides, it's Kevin's couch, so it's Kevin's problem, he thinks with a small smirk. Kevin looks at him curiously and drags his thumb over the curve of Javier's mouth, and Javier shakes his head a little and ducks to kiss his palm when it's close enough.

"So," he says, scooting back a tiny bit so that he can see that tattoo again, even though he's almost precariously perched on the edge of the couch now. "You planning on telling me what's with the tattoo?"

"I told you, it's tradition." Kevin grins. "Four leaf clovers help you get lucky."

Javier blinks, then groans-that's just bad-and Kevin laughs and pulls him in for another kiss.

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Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.


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